


proof that tony stark has a heart

by buckybarnes (ineffablystyles)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Avengers Family, Avengers Feels, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Heavy Angst, Multi, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Sad, Sad Ending, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:32:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablystyles/pseuds/buckybarnes
Summary: steve doesn't know how to live without tony, so he does something about it





	proof that tony stark has a heart

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. But also not really.

Steve Rogers stared despondently around the group of battered and broken superheroes.

  
He remembers the first time he’d met each of them; Sam Wilson who’d experienced war and combat the way he had, Thor with his loud voice and booming laugh that was glaringly absent these days, Nick Fury with his eye patch and the surrounding mystery about him, and Bucky Barnes who had been Steve’s friend when he’d been nothing but a sickly kid from New York who just wanted to be good.

But no Tony Stark.

If he said that out loud, he knows that Pepper will tell him that’s not true. That Tony will always be with them. But Steve thinks that’s a load of bullshit these days.

His friend shouldn’t have died, and as he watches Happy usher little Morgan Starks over to the porch he feels angry at the world, at the heroes around him, but mostly at himself.

Tony had already given up so much of himself to be better, to make a change when no changes were happening. He deserved to see outcome of his sacrifices.

There was a burning righteousness simmering in Steve’s belly as he thought of his friend.

The first time he’d met Tony Stark, he’d been dubious. Wondered how someone so cocky could be part of a project bent on saving the world.

But the more time he spent with Tony, the more he watched the little ways in which he manoeuvred the team, all he could see was someone obsessed with making sure everyone was happy and safe - even at the expense of his own health.

And now, after Tony had made the biggest sacrifice of them all, Steve could only think of how to right this wrong.

So when they asked him if he’d take back the stones and put them where they belonged in time, he’d readily agreed. And everyone was so focused on making sure the time machine was working and all the coordinates were correct, they didn’t see Steve sneaking off.

He’d watched Morgan sneak into her dad’s garage before, so Steve mimicked her movements and made his own way inside as well.

Unsurprisingly it was a cluttered mess, but he knew without a doubt, that Tony knew where every piece of equipment was if asked for it.

Steve felt a rush of emotion course through him as he glanced around the space that was such a direct extension of his friend that he almost toppled over with grief.

No loss had ever hit him this hard. Even when Bucky had fallen off that damned train his heart hadn’t felt so shredded. Partly because he hadn’t had time to grieve back then, there’s always been another mission. But now it was over.

Tony was gone and Steve felt that grief to his very core.

“Can I help you, Captain Rogers?” A delicate female voice, only slightly robotic in melody, rang through the room.

Steve jumped. He’d forgotten all about Friday.

“I need one of Tony’s Iron Man gloves,” he admitted after another brief look around. “The newest one he made.” He added.

“Mr Stark doesn’t like people touching his suits,” Friday almost berated him.

“This is for Tony,” Steve told her, twisting his own truth. “Please.”

There was a whirring noise and then the floor slid open as a red and gold suit of armour rose out of the ground.

Steve edged closer to it after a quiet thank you to Friday. He slid his fingers over the metal and dropped his shield beside the armour, bringing it back home where it belonged.

“Friday, is this garage fortified?” He asked, pulling the glove off and slipping it onto his own arm.

“It is, Captain.”

“Good,” Steve nodded, that was one less thing he had to worry about. “Lock is up.”

Friday did as she was told, while Steve slid each stone into place on the Iron Gauntlet.

He knew outside everyone would be wondering where he’d gone, and he didn’t have much time until they figured it out with all the noise around him as he barricaded himself inside.

“Friday.”  
  
“Yes, Captain?”

“If this all goes to plan but I’m not here to see it through, tell Tony I’m sorry. Tell him I wish things had ended differently and that he was right, that it was my fault the team fell apart.”

And then Steve clicked his fingers, not waiting for a response but knowing Friday would do as she was asked.

The surge of energy that coursed through him was terrifying and painful and Steve thought for sure he was being ripped to shreds.

And then it was over as quickly as it had come.

But the pain persisted.

He could feel everything inside him burning, each breathe ratting his lungs as his vision blurred and his heart tried to give out.

But he couldn’t leave yet, he had to know it worked. He had to make sure he righted this wrong.

It could have been hours he sat there, his organs screaming at him to give in, to let them rest. But Steve pushed through, each breath feeling like a mountain was sitting on his chest, keeping his lungs from doing their job.

And then there were hands all over him, checking for a pulse and pulling the crushed gauntlet away from him and throwing it across the room.

“Dammit, Cap,” Tony’s voice reaches him through the haze. “You couldn’t just let it go?” He cursed him, even as he pulled him over his shoulder and tried to get him to move.

“Tony,” Steve wheezed, a relieved smile forming on his lips. “Thank god, I don’t think I could’ve handled listening to one of your lectures in the afterlife.” Steve joked.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Tony vowed with a hiss. But Steve was barely lucid and he wasn’t moving at all. “Fucking dammit, Steve.” He cursed again. And that’s how Steve knew he was panicked; Tony never called him Steve.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Tony asked in anguish. His voice wavered as he asked Friday for help. Steve doesn’t remember what he said, he was finally giving in. He’d done what he’d set out to do and now he was tired.

Surely Tony would let him sleep for a little bit before yelling at him. Yes, Steve thinks, a nap sounds good. Even if it lasts for the rest of eternity.

 


End file.
